


When Screams Turn To Silence...

by honeyHunter



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Crying, Deal, Drinking, Ew, F/F, F/M, Gore, M/M, Pain, Sadness, Suffering, Zombiestuck, over all this is just a sad stuck, sick people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-04-15 06:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4596681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyHunter/pseuds/honeyHunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walkers.</p><p>    That's the term you picked up from the show The Walking Dead for this kind of situation. God, if you hated the dead, you hated them more so now. Not even if one of them gave five-hundred bottles of the strongest vodka could make you un-hate them. Nothing could. You try to dry your face again when something rings against your ears and glides down your back with a like stroke that is probably meant to reduce your sweater to tatters but fails.</p><p>___</p><p>This is the story of a bunch of kids, some parents, some families, and some VERY contorted relationships.  Get ready for zombies, blood, gore, and any other possibly triggering things. You have been warned!</p><p>Homestuck does not belong to me, it belongs to Andrew Hussie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

    Your name is ROXY LALONDE, and you could really go for a drink right about now. Not only is your mouth dry as all fuck, but you don't really want to be sober in a world like this. Perhaps just a bottled water will do, but it could only suffice for half of your needs. You head aches and your eyes burn from the light of the lamp posts. You are surprised that they still work.

    Your name is ROXY LALONDE, and you are bringing up the rear of the group. It's just you, D-Stri and his mini-me, Janey, and English. You always wanted to meet up with them but not like this. Not in this world. You hated to recall how this all happened too.

    Your name is ROXY LALONDE, and you are currently trying to dry your face. You have been silently crying the whole walk, and no one ever knew. They never looked back at you and they never tried to talk to you... Or each other, to be perfectly honest. Mostly because saying a word or making a sound could attract walkers.

Walkers.

    That's the term you picked up from the show  _The Walking Dead_ for this kind of situation. God, if you hated the dead, you hated them more so now. Not even if one of them gave five-hundred bottles of the strongest vodka could make you un-hate them. Nothing could. You try to dry your face again when something rings against your ears and glides down your back with a like stroke that is probably meant to reduce your sweater to tatters but fails.

    You jump approximately seven feet into the air and dart ahead of the group faster than a bullet from your old rifle, seeing as you've decided quite a while ago that being walker bait isn't exactly the best usage of your life. You can hear them, Dirk and Dave actually, scream and run after you, but you can't bring yourself to stop, and you only stop when you trip and mash your face into the rubble in the alley way you are in. You sit up, drawing a hand to the blood that leaks out of your face as Jane catches up to you, helps you get up, and leads you away quickly, not quite a run, but still hurried.

"Janey, whaht about Jake and Dirhk??" You slur through the blood and saliva in your mouth.  
"We need to go- they will catch up, okay?"  
"But Ja-"  
" _We need to go, Roxy._ "

   And that's where that conversation ended. She, Jane, led you far down the alley way, snapping at you every time you went to look back. You never got to see what was behind you, and it really threw you off. Why would she do that? What as so bad that Jane thought it would scar you? You're a big girl, no need to hide things from you! You turn your head to the side and spit the metallic blood- saliva out onto the rubble of the gravel. You're appalled at the sight of a tooth in the liquid. Running your tongue across the front of your teeth, you discover that it's your left canine tooth that decided it didn't like it's home in your mouth. Wonderful. You keep walking with Jane now, and as a cold gust of wind causes you to shiver, your grip on Jane's hand tightened.

    "Roxy, are you okay?" Jane asked. Her voice was quiet and soothing, and it melted your heart to know that she was concerned about you. "Yeah, I am. Thanks, Janie." You say, beaming for her. "Roxy, your tooth! What happened?" You chuckle almost silently and explain to her the loss of your tooth, and how it muse have gotten knocked out when you fell into the gravel. You feel safe with Jane now, and don't think anything worse is going to happen tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

Your name is DAVE STRIDER and you cannot see worth your life right now. Your shades make it impossible to see in the night time, and you actually contemplate removing them so you can see just what you are doing, and where you are going. You almost immediately remove the thought from your mind- no self respecting Strider would remove their shades just for the mere purpose of _sight_. 

Your name is DAVE STRIDER and you are very, very tired. You haven't slept in over several days and and frankly, you don't care all that much. Anyone who goes to sleep the same day they woke up is a quitter.

Your name is DAVE STRIDER and you are traveling with your brother, your.. mom? Never where sure about that. You're also traveling with some hot momma named Jane and an english guy who you think is named cake. 

You walk on, holding yourself. Jesus it's cold! You shiver, looking up at your brother, who is but a few feet in front of you. You open yourself to tell him it's unironically cold, but before a single sound can escape your lips Roxy shoots like a bullet from behind you, you don't even know what happened, and you don't hear anything for so long that you start think it's a dream.

Your brother flips around, eyes wide, and grabs your fore arm. He pulls you forwards in front of him, his hands give a forceful push on your back, sending you into a quick jumble before you collect your balance and just run after Roxy and Jane. They start to fall out of your vision and you turn back to look for Dirk and british guy, but all you can see is Dirk.  
  
"Dirk?"  
  
Your voice trembles. You're sure your voice has _never_ done this before.

"Dirk, where's the others?" You call out. Someone else answers you.

  
"Keep close. I do not want to lose you too, stranger. Not like I did _her_."  
"Dirk?"  
"Watch out for the walkers, keep your eyes open."  


Huh? What was that noise. Somebody's hands wrap around your shoulders and pulls you close as you tremble- large, strong hands, blackened from grease or oil. Or ash. You gently pull your shades from your eyes to get a better inspection as the person pulling you close begins to walk you. That's not oil, grease,  _or_ ash.

It's blood.

You internally panic, who's touching you? Who's taking you away?  _Who's covered in blood?_  You look up to the figure to question them. "Who are you?" Your voice rings out, though more wavering than you wanted it to be. The person you're following is taller than you, and has deep blue eyes. Their hair falls down past their shoulders, but is pulled up into a tight pony tail, tied together with a blue hairband. Most of their body is covered in a repugnant thing- blood, guts, eugh. You pinch your nose shut. Much better.

"I'll take you to the camp, but you mustn't panic, we can't risk lives."

The camp? Where was this guy taking you!?


End file.
